Page 85 of Two Chambered Heart

She ran her fingers over all the different tools. “Which one can I use to cut his dick off?”

Jason’s guard seemed to drop at her comment. His answering smile was so wide that his lips pulled back from his gums. “Depends. Do you want to stab it or lay him down and saw it off?”

“Ugh, no. I don’t want to see that thing again.” She picked up one of the larger hunting knives and strode over to the man. He was still making pathetic sounds, eyes bugging out of his scarred face.

“I told you to shut the fuck up, you disgusting pedo.” She twirled the knife around her finger, staring him down with cold eyes. “You know what I think you forgot about with raping little girls?”

She waited for his response, but none came, his eyes fused to the knife she was holding. A vicious smile spread across her face as she took the knife hilt in her hand.

“Little girls grow up.” She rammed the knife into his crotch, and he bellowed out in pain, head thrashing back and forth, his feet tremoring against the chair legs.

With a jerk, she pulled her hand away, leaving the knife blade embedded at the base of his pelvis. She was starting to feel a little manic. She’d thought about this moment for so long, never imagining it would happen.

“I’ve told a few people that I had a latent desire to fuck up this man. I was told it was unhealthy, and I should go to therapy. Not you two, though.” Her eyes darted between the twins as the coppery tang of blood fused with the scents of the garage. From one conversation, Jason had found the man and given her this gift. She looked at the knife sticking out from his crotch,denim darkening quickly around the wound, and she cocked her head to the side. “He’s going to bleed to death if I pull that out, won’t he?”

“Unless we bandage up the wound, probably,” Jason replied, but made no move to interfere, allowing her to call the shots.

“Ew, we’re not doing that. I’ll leave it in there until he can get medical attention. I want him to live. I want him to go through the rest of his life without his dick.”

“Sweetheart, we can’t let him live now. He’s seen our faces.”

“I won’t say anything. I promise, please.” The fucker was begging, the tendons in his neck straining with his pain. Corey punched him, using everything she’d learned to make sure she didn’t break her hand this time. With her newly built strength, she felt his nose break on impact, the cartilage and bone crumbling with the force.

“I don’t want to tell you to shut the fuck up one more time. We should have worn masks.” She blew out a pent-up breath. “Were you raping Michael?”

The man shook his head no, vigorously. She didn’t believe him. She went to the table and picked up another knife. She came back with it, waving it in his face. “Answer me truthfully, or it’ll be your eyes next.”

The man groaned and nodded his head.

Corey gasped, her hand dropping back to her side. She stood staring at him.

“How many others?”

“I don’t know,” he panted.

She stabbed the knife into his hand, splayed out on the chair’s arm.

He howled.

“How. Many. Others?” Corey repeated through gritted teeth, eyes watering with unshed tears.

“I don’t know!” the man sobbed. “All of them.”

“What if we cut his tongue out so he can’t speak?” sheasked Jason.

He chuckled, bringing his hand up to her cheek to wipe away the tears that were starting to fall. “You can if you want to. Good thing I brought the cautery tool.”

Corey looked up at Jason from between her lashes, and asked, “Will you teach me to cut without killing him?”

Jason’s grin was infectious, and she giggled. He only beamed brighter, like all of his wildest dreams had come true. She saw Kayden catch Jason’s eye; some twin conversation she couldn’t understand passed between the two of them.

“Get the forceps and the meat scissors, Little Fox,” Kayden directed her. “I’ll get the cautery laser.”

Corey went back to the table of tools and picked up the two, bringing them back to Jason. Kayden plugged in an extension cord and brought the machine to the chair. It was a big square with a bunch of knobs and buttons and a wand-like pen attached by a long cable.

“I’m no surgeon,” Jason confessed. “I’ve only used this a few times, so I make no promises that he won’t bleed out.”

She shrugged and lifted the scissors up, snipping them a few times. The man was still making drivelling noises as he sobbed in the chair.

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